The classic car buying season is upon us, and there are few better places to
start than the Triumph TR4A.

The sky is exhaust-grey, the open road breezier than a Blower Bentley, and are those the first tears of rain drumming on the bonnet? Yep, autumn is falling in on us, which signals the start of the classic car season. Make that the classic car buying season.

Not even a love-struck Bugatti owner will rouse from his wing-back to leap into a flying jacket and swoop down country lanes. This is when neglected spouses ask unhelpful questions, such as, "What's the point of a car just rusting in the garage?" and, "Why did I marry you?"

Bargains abound. Cruising on eBay last week I could have picked up the following: a one-family-owned Jaguar XJ6 series II, close to being knocked down to £2,500; a passable MGB attracting no takers over £1,000; or a gorgeous red Midget only nudging £2,500.

Ragtops go particularly cheaply in hat and scarf weather and if I were in the market for a classic now I'd follow in the tyre tracks of my neighbour, Paul Mann. He has – among other automotive attractions – a Triumph TR4A. Parked outside his equally pretty cottage it could be staged for a Sunday night period drama. Even dressed in red with wire wheels it doesn't look showy or tarty, just dreamy.

The high, purposeful wheel-arches hint at the roadster's potency, confirmed by the gravelly roar that precedes a scattering of pheasant. The TR is also nimble and frisky: amazing that it is powered by a Ferguson tractor engine. But with piped leather, wooden dash and lashings of chrome there is nothing "economy" about a TR; yet you can find solid examples for £8,000.

For Paul the car's greatest appeal is that it is cheap and easy to work on, with a better supply of spares than when he ran one as a student in the Seventies. "If you know one end of a spanner from another there really isn't much to confuse you," says Paul, an oil executive who returned to Britain after 30 years abroad to spend more time with his cars.

He also reports it is easy to drive, with his wife and son always keen to borrow it.

The only downside of these cars is their tendency to rust, particularly in the sills, though this could be said of virtually every contemporary British motor. Paul has chosen well as his "A" variant has independent rear suspension, stopping it bouncing about quite so skittishly.

"I should also confess," Paul shoots me a sideways smile as we charge through our village, "to lowering it just a tad."

So here's my autumn buying tip: a Triumph TR4. Though I should probably repeat my wife's boring health warning: "If there is one thing that gives men more satisfaction than buying a classic car, it is selling a classic car." Ouch.